(A Sketch at Margate.)
Close under the Parade Watt a large circle has been formed, consisting chiefly of Women on chairs and camp-stools, with an inner ring of small children, who are all patiently awaiting the arrival of a troupe of Niggers. At the head of one of the flights of steps leading up to the Parade, a small and shrewish Child-nurse is endeavouring to detect and recapture a pair of prodigal younger Brothers, who have given her the slip.
Sarah (to herself). Wherever can them two plegs have got to? (Aloud; drawing a bow at a venture) ALBERT! 'ENERY! Come up 'ere this minnit. I see yer!
'Enery (under the steps—to Albert). I say—d'ye think she do?—'cos if—
Albert. Not she! Set tight. [They sit tight.]
Sarah (as before). 'ENERY! ALBERT! You've bin and 'alf killed little GEORGIE between yer!
'Enery (moved, to Albert). Did you 'ear that, BERT? It wasn't me upset him—was it now?
Albert (impenitent). 'Oo cares! The Niggers'll be back direckly.
Sarah. AL-BERT! 'ENERY! Your father's bin down 'ere once after you. You'll ketch it!
Albert (sotto voce). Not till Father ketches us, we shan't. Keep still, 'ENERY—we're all right under 'ere!